


Zelda Spellman is in love

by ClaireMorgan



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Queer Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Mambo Spellman, Mild Smut, Soft Zelda Spellman, Zarie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireMorgan/pseuds/ClaireMorgan
Summary: Zelda Spellman is in love with this strange, wonderfully intense woman; and life suddenly tastes like new beginnings. Maybe Mambo Marie Lafleur is the remedy to all pain. When she stretches out her hand, wide smile and shiny eyes, it certainly seems like it. "Come dance with me.", she asks. And the witch can't help but oblige.
Relationships: Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. Wednesday nights

The living room is filled with the scent-packed smoke of cigarettes, and some Billie Holiday song that Zelda has never heard before. 

  * Come, dance with me. 
  * Well, yes, of course.



Zelda takes a steps towards the other woman, and accepts the hand that is offered to her. She lets Marie spin her around, once, and then tries to retreat.

  * What are you doing _Madame_ Spellman?
  * You were not kidding? I thought you were kidding.



Dancing isn’t really Zelda’s style. 

  * Do I look like I’m kidding?



The witch is trying to keep a straight face; Marie’s look is one of playful teasing, and Zelda has found out now that it is pretty impossible to refuse anything to this woman. So. She takes the hand, again - and firmly this time. Marie pulls her close and they sway to the music, slow and intoxicating.

  * Well… this is nice, after all. 



Oh that smile cannot mean any good - and here they go again, she spins and ends up facing the wall, her back turned to Marie, though she is kept close with one hand securely wrapped around her waist.

Marie takes one of her hand in one of hers, delicately, and intertwines their fingers. Zelda can feel her breath against her neck. 

  * I hate not seeing you.



Marie starts nibbling on her ear, gently.

  * It’s the only way I can really see _you_ … honey.



Marie is conscious of the power of the word, on her, and uses it mercilessly. The witch throws her head back and smiles to the ceiling. She wants to carve every second of that moment into her mind, to go back to it again and again, later. 

“Honey” That’s exactly how she sees her lover : sticky and sweet, impossible to get rid of yet irresistibly fit for everything. It seems that life, with Marie, flows so easily: there is not one experience she doesn’t consider with calm - but she is never distant, or detached, quite the opposite. She _cares_ , so much. She cares about things Zelda doesn’t even understand. She cares about dancing in the living room on a wednesday night, on a Billie Holiday song, “with me”, Zelda can't help thinking. She turns her head and tries to steal a kiss.

  * Uh uh. No kiss now. Just dance. 



Marie keeps her even closer now, and Zelda’s head is almost resting on her shoulder. Then she feels a parting; Marie has pulled back for a second, to grab her whiskey on the table.

  * Hey, stop keeping all the pleasure for yourself.



They’re looking at each other now, and Marie’s eyes are shining wildly - again. 

  * Want some chérie?



She shakes the glass smoothly; the ice cubes whisper on a high note. 

  * Yes, please. 
  * Some of that you mean?
  * Yes, give me the glass!
  * Are you sure it is that you want, because…
  * Yes, yes, give me the glass.



Zelda is fighting against Marie, who keeps her even tightly close, and she laughs. Zelda _laughs_ \- it’s a joyful, brittle yet round giggle that echoes in the whole house. The walls almost tremble; they have not heard a laugh like that in a long time.

  * Give me the…
  * Here, take some.



Marie brings the glass to the witch’s lips, but Zelda can’t get a drop before there is whiskey being spilled all over her chin. Marie turns Zelda around (she is spinning, again) and licks the sharp liquid across her lover’s neck, and her face. They are laughing still - they have not stopped. 

  * Zelda? Sorry to disturb… 



Hilda has just walked in; and Zelda thought there was no one home. Marie is quicker to reply. 

  * Hi, sister Hilda. How’s everything going with that doctor of yours?
  * Well, he’s technically not a doctor, but… I have to say, everything’s pretty great. Seems like you guys are having a nice time too!



Zelda can’t help but cast a discreetly naughty glance at Marie. “Nice time, indeed”

  * Zelds’s not a great _danseuse_ , but…



A not so small punch in the ribs stops Marie’s sentence halfway. Zelda grins, not sorry at all. 

  * Anyway, what did you wanted to tell me Hildy?



Zelda has not called her sister that in ages. 

  * I just wanted to say… I’m going to bed. Good night!
  * Good night Hilda! May your sleep be deep and peaceful.



Sometimes, Marie’s care for everyone is a little intense, though it only makes Zelda laugh. 

  * Good night Hildy!



The nickname, again. “She’s happy”, thinks Hilda. “It has been a while.” 

Meanwhile, silence has fallen upon the living room. The two women are still holding each other, standing in the middle of the room. 

  * I should get home. 



Marie has a room at the Academy now - one of the luxurious ones. Zelda likes going there, sometimes, primarily for the privacy it insures. And it is nice knowing they always have a hideout handy in the event of a too boring day. Nonetheless, when Marie goes to the Spellman’s mortuary, it is generally to stay there for the night, if not more than one night. Zelda can never wrap her head around the idea of letting her go. She knows the easy solution for this: she has thought of it for a while. Now the memories of just a few minutes ago are coming back, those whiskey-damp kisses, and that hand around her waist while they danced : Marie is always keeping her steady, strong. 

  * No. Stay. 
  * You know I have classes tomorrow, and… 
  * I don’t mean… 



Zelda can see in Marie’s face now that she knows what she is going to say. But Marie lets her go all the way. 

  * I mean stay here, _live_ here. With me. 



Marie slips her hand around the witch’s neck and holds her even closer. 

  * Won’t you get tired of me, chérie? What will I do when you get tired?



Zelda knows Marie is just teasing, but she needs - no, she wants - to say it now. 

  * Never. I’ll never get tired of you. 



They smile. It’s a moment that they will both remembr - and also the kind of which you can feel the significance as you’re living it. When they tighten their hold and look so deep in the other’s eyes, on the edge of a giggle : it’s almost as if all of this is already a cherished souvenir. It was bound to happen. 

  * It’s late. We should get to bed too, don’t you think?



Marie raises an eyebrow and brokes their embrace, softly. She takes the witch’s hand, again.

  * Take me there then. 




	2. A different pace

Marie’s hands are not delicate, but they are warm and shrouding : they seem to erase some unwanted memories still clinging to Zelda’s skin.  She reaches out to grab her face, and pull her in for another kiss : deeper, this time. Zelda lets her lover’s fingers smoothly run through her hair, and then she feels them pulling; Marie knows just what she likes. Though as hard as she can try to be wicked she always ends up being soft and sweet. And listening to this hissing voice whispering sweet nothing in her ear, feeling those kisses on her flushed cheeks, the witch thinks it isn’t so bad after all. Half of the words she whispers are foreign - french, creole, or something - but Zelda can feel the flavor of them all. They are not words you would address to anyone. 

The voodoo priestess lets her mouth wander to Zelda’s neck, than further down. An eager gasp escapes Zelda’s lips, and usually she would have been a bit ashamed to show such devotion, so early, but now she doesn’t care. Marie is not like the others. 

  * I think I forgot… the soundproof spell. 



Zelda is having a hard time talking, and Marie laughs - dry and brittle. You can almost feel her accent in her giggle; Zelda loves it. 

  * Then I guess you’ll have to be silent _mon amour_. 



Both women struggle not to laugh again - that will be hard, for sure. Zelda is pretty contained when it comes to emotions : except in one situation. Marie slips her hand up the witch’s body and covers her mouth. Zelda doesn’t protest, mostly because now Marie is working her tongue around her nipple, soon taking the full breast in her mouth. Zelda arches her back; there is something about Marie, about the whole atmosphere of the room, that is making her feel incredibly sensitive. Every touch feels like it fizzes on her skin. She moans, a bit too loud. 

  * Shhhhh… 
  * Oh, stop shushing me and just get down with it, you… 



The feeling of Marie’s breath on the inside of her thigh stops any more words from coming out of the witch’s mouth. She feels two fingers sliding in her wetness, cruelly slow, and then, at last, Marie’s mouth is on her. She grabs the sheets with one hand, and reaches for Marie’s hair with the other; she is stopped midtrack. Her lover takes her hand in hers and pins it to the bed, tightening her other hand on Zelda’s mouth. 

Zelda thrusts her hips faster and faster. She can feel the tension building up in the bottom of her throat, and every outcome of breath is at high risk of turning into a loud moan. Marie’s thumb gently caresses her hand. 

  * Stay silent my love… 



The witch gives her lover’s hand a hard squeeze in return, that means for her to shut up, a bit, but is also quite the indication that Zelda isn’t in any way capable of words at the moment. It draws an invisible smile on the voodoo priestess’ face. 

It’s almost frustrating, how much time it takes ; Zelda can feel that Marie is going deliberately slow, each stroke taking her just a tiny bit closer to pleasure, but never quite there yet. She hates it and she loves it : this new way of loving, so different from all she had before. And the torture of having to keep silent ; she is not used to it either, though the setting does make her maybe even more aroused, despite her initial depreciation of the idea. 

She thinks - maybe a bit too much - but as she welcomes every touch like a starving creature, she slowly surrenders to the moment. For one clear instant she can actually see how much of herself she has given to that woman, to Marie. There is no place in between them for lies or embarrassment ; there never was, really. This woman is offering all she can, and this time Zelda wants - yes, she truly wants - to give back. 

One particularly right touch snaps Zelda back in the room. Finally, she senses little crinkles at the tips of her fingers, fastly spreading like a strike of lightning in her whole body. She bites Marie’s fingers and comes at this very second. Marie promptly makes her way up the other woman’s body, only to stifle one last whine with a kiss. 

  * You didn’t need a spell _après tout_! Only a bit of effort!
  * Well, you’ve certainly put effort too, so… 



Marie laughs before Zelda’s sentence is even over, putting her arms around the woman and letting herself fall on the bed next to her. 

  * Don’t fall asleep just now. 
  * I won’t!



Marie replaces, carefully, strands of red hair behind one delicate ear. Soon, Zelda closes her eyes.


	3. What the morning brings

  * Stop talking and follow me.
  * Where? 
  * Stop asking questions! You’re too loud, you’ll wake up the whole house.
  * _Oh non_ , you’re the loud one Zelda Spellman!



The witch breaks into a laugh at that retort, a subtle reminder of their games of last night. The early morning light strikes them both as they open the door. 

  * Here.
  * What is there to be so interested on your back porch?



Zelda suddenly takes Marie by the hips and pins her on one of the pillars. She lays a soft, almost chaste kiss on her lips, before heading to her jaw, teasing with her tongue. Her hands are getting more passionate every second, pulling at Marie’s shirt and sliding on her sides. 

  * Well I may have spoke too fast. This is indeed a very nice back porch.



Zelda smiles, her face buried in the other woman’s shoulder. Marie surrenders - as she always does - leaning into the pillar with her whole body, while Zelda knows she would have stayed ready to stand up by herself at any moment, if it was her. She doesn’t dwell on the thought, and simply traces a long, sharp line with her lips; from one shoulder to another, lingering on a particularly inviting collarbone. 

  * Damn I love that skin of yours… 
  * You do?
  * Yes. 
  * I know. 



Marie is looking very closely at the witch’s face, studying her features it seems. Zelda lets out a short sigh, only to realise she had been holding her breath it all this time. The stare intensifies; Marie is aware of that little moment of nakedness, and in her eyes she acknowledges it, her head imperceptibly nodding. 

They both reach for the other’s face at the same time, kissing with their lips open wide. They sense  _ it  _ \- inside her chest Zelda feels  _ it _ , not burning but tingling - that thing they have, solid like a rock it is, and so beautiful too. They kiss in the fresh, cutting air of the morning, as if they are the two only beings in the world. But still, after all those grand feelings and promises muffled in their embrace, Zelda knows that every day will be the same : no pressure, no drama or pain. Life, with Marie, like a river flowing, will keep on, and instants like this will come, though they won’t need them : life will be bright, and with it no need of drastic enlightenment. 

  * Stop overthinking and just be with me. 



Marie’s voice is deeper than usual, and more serious too, but soft. As always, she says exactly what Zelda needs to hear. The witch grins. “There it is”, she thinks. That’s how life will be. Though now Marie’s breath is getting heavier in her ear, distracting her from everything else, and those hands are starting to want more skin. 

  * You know, we could make them sleep a little longer if we wanted… 



Marie slips her hand under Zelda’s robe, caressing a thigh, lightly running her thumb in small circles on her stomach. 

  * No. Let’s go make them breakfast before they come down. 



Zelda grabs one last handful of skin - her lover’s breast - through her shirt, and lays another kiss on that delicious mouth. Then Marie does something that leaves the other woman completely bewildered; she kisses her forehead. And with that kiss it seems a few of Zelda’s worries fly away. 

___________________________________________________________

The sound of an egg frying in the pan is always one to make Hilda jolly. 

  * Good morning!



Normally, she would have received a feisty come-back from Zelda to that chanting voice, but today she doesn’t. Her sister is too absorbed in her newspaper ; though, after looking at her for a while, Hilda notices her eyes shifting almost imperceptibly from the paper to Marie, and back to the paper, then not a second later lingering on the woman’s arm as she flips the eggs. Zelda’s sharp voice suddenly breaks her little smile. 

  * Why are you staring?
  * Staring? I wasn’t the one doing that first, dear… 



Marie turns around - from the look on her face she has been very aware of what was going on. Zelda blushes, looking deeper in her newspaper as she savagely flips a page. 

  * Marie, you’re such a sweetheart for making breakfast!! You didn’t need to, you’re our guest!
  * It is not a problem Hilda! I love cooking. 



Ambrose steps in the room, with one of his usual chic robes, and a wry smile. 

  * Well, that makes one more point on the perfect girlfriend chart does it?



Marie smiles back, and hugs Zelda’s nephew, giving him a little kiss on the cheek - as they always do. Zelda’s mind jumps at the word, “girlfriend”, but then, she looks at Marie and Ambrose and can’t help but grin behind her newspaper; it is definitely a good thing that those two get on so well. After all, Ambrose has met Marie before her. He, and Prudence, have put the voodoo priestess on her path. And the thought is truly weird, since Zelda has a hard time picturing how her life would have turned out, without her. 

  * Good morning everyone!



Sabrina, as usual, is waking up last. That is, at least, when she’s not cooking up  goofy  plans to take over the universe. 

  * Marie, it almost looks like you live here these days!



Sabrina casts the woman a kind look and sits at the table in one movement, a satisfied look painted all over her face. She doesn’t mean any harm, nonetheless Zelda immediately gets nervous. What if Sabrina doesn’t want Marie to live here? 

Marie looks over her shoulder to Zelda; a look that only the older witch sees. She has a sixth sense for that kind of thing - it’s almost as if she knows when something affects people, she can figure out what they don’t say, what they keep for themselves behind empty eyes. Or maybe she sees what she, Zelda, doesn’t want to say.

  * Damn, you’re all so silent this morning! Did I say something?



Hilda looks at her sister too, also sensing there is something going on. And then Marie casts another glance, one that means she doesn’t want to overstep, but thinks Zelda should make an announcement - well, at least, that’s what Zelda thinks it means. So, she doesn't really have a choice. 

  * Well, I… Or, I should say, we… 



She nods her head in Marie’s direction, who walks towards her to lean on the table. 

  * We talked about Marie living here. And I just, well we just, wanted to know how would you feel about that. All of you. 
  * That’s amazing auntie Z! I’m so happy for both of you!



Sabrina barely finishes her sentence before reaching for her aunt’s hand and giving it a hard squeeze. Zelda is startled for a second, and then presses her niece’s hand in response. Ambrose turns to Marie with a wide smile and open arms. 

  * Welcome in the family!
  * Merci chéri! But I think I can say you’ve been treating me like family ever since I've first set foot in this house. 



Meanwhile, Hilda is being completely ecstatic - even more than usual.

  * Oh that’s marvelous! We should have a special dinner tonight to celebrate! I’ll cook a roast beef! 



Zelda smiles to herself ; her sister cooking her favourite dish to celebrate the news can only mean she is really happy about this. 

  * And be sure to invite your doctor too. 
  * Yes, good idea Marie!



Sabrina is smiling like a little girl in the middle of a  gossiping party. 

  * Isn’t that burning eggs I smell?



Marie looks at Zelda, startled - she hasn’t reached the oven that already Zelda is whispering a spell under her breath. 

  * No no, they’re fine. 



When everybody has been served and Marie finally sits at the table, Zelda folds her newspaper and puts it down - for once, they all think. Marie turns to her. 

  * Thank you. 



They smile to each other, and Zelda thinks she has not smiled like this, and so often, in ages. And later, when Marie is engaging in cheerful conversations with her niece, talking about meeting friends for some sort of party, and literature, feminism and such like, she feels… full. Relieved. 

Marie stretches her leg just a little bit, so that their knees are touching under the table. She seems completely immersed in her conversation, nonetheless the witch can see her lips curling in the corner of her mouth, just a bit. She puts a confident arm on the backrest of her lover’s chair. They have this little moment, in the middle of all the morning’s mess - just a  split-second-long glance - where they can both see the other’s happiness, how they are both totally on the same page about this. In synch, one could say. 

And there is one silly thing : the joy Zelda feels, in the very core of her being, comes almost entirely from seeing Marie like this, smiling in delight, luminous. It’s scary and a solace all at once. 


	4. That thing she does to me (I want to do the same for her)

Their dinner was lovely - or at least that’s what Hilda keeps repeating. Now Sabrina and Ambrose have both gone back to their rooms, and “Dr” Cerberus is almost out of the door, arm linked with his beloved. 

  * It really was a nice dinner, was it? 
  * Yes, darling, it was!



Marie and Zelda are standing in the entrance, watching the goofy couple make their way to the car. Hilda has decided to spend the night at her soon-to-be husband’s house. 

  * Goodbye! Goodnight girls!
  * Good night sister. 



A few minutes - minutes! - later, they finally manage to get in the car and drive away. Zelda looks at Marie and raises an eyebrow. 

  * Praise satan, she’s gone now. I can’t believe how alcohol can affect someone that much!



Marie stays silent and they look at each other for a little while. The witch knows she wants to go back to the Academy to pick up her stuff, and that if she does she will sleep there. She has said it earlier : she wasn’t going to move in at 3am. They can wait one more night. 

  * I don’t want you to leave… 
  * Zelda, I… 
  * But I know you have to. 



The black woman takes a step towards her lover, who immediately takes a step back, playfully. Zelda’s back is against the doorframe now - and they still haven’t closed it, the door, so the cool air slips under the fabric of their clothes, leaving slight shivers behind. Marie puts a hand next to Zelda’s head, and leans towards her. She stops mere inches from her mouth. 

  * See you tomorrow. 



She turns around promptly now, and starts walking away. The witch stays with her back to the door frame for several minutes. The way this woman is making her feel; it’s unearthly. It's despicable, and one of the best things that has ever happened to her. 

___________________________________________________________

Even past midnight, Zelda’s sleep is being poisoned by thoughts. She hasn’t really closed her eyes for the whole night - every time the room feels too empty, too silent and she fears when she’ll wake up she’ll stretch a hand and find nobody there. She doesn’t want that anymore. 

Because she can’t do anything else, she pictures Marie. One particular thing lingers in her mind : those letters she wrote to her, not so long ago. On a few occasions she left letters at Zelda’s door, always a couple of pages with lots of words, big words. At first, the witch wasn’t sure she really liked it. But now, she remembers them fondly, pressing her eyes tight in a silent squeal of joy - a thing she only does when she is alone, of course.

She remembers some passages - big, scary words, and some foreign ones too. Marie was talking about love long before Zelda had even let her mind go there. There was, once, in one of her letters, a little drawing - of her, Zelda - asleep. She recalls vividly that sensation coursing through her veins when she first saw the scribble. Like falling off a cliff. She thinks this is the moment - the one moment she knew she was in love. 

She is so caught up in this instant, she is about to get up and go get those letters (she knows exactly where she has put them) - when she hears a strange knock echo in the room. Zelda stops dead in her tracks and listens. For a while, nothing; only silence. Then, another knock, louder this time. It’s coming from the window. 

She steps closer and, lifting only a little corner of the curtain,  peaks at the front yard. What she sees is beyond her : a dark figure is standing, bent, looking for something on the ground, it seems. It’s a rather feminine figure, and when she raises up, Zelda can see a glint of shiny eyes upon dark skin. “Marie”

She jumps for the third time when the loud thud echoes just above her forehead. She opens the window. 

  * Marie, for the sake of hell, what are you doing? 



Marie’s face is far below her, but Zelda is sure she can see a grin grow on her lips. 

  * I’m throwing stones at your window _mon amour_. 



Zelda is speechless for a second, her smile childishly wide. 

  * Come in, before you start serenading me and wake up all of Greendale. 



She rolls her eyes, and she knows if Marie was here already she would only roll her eyes back, knowing exactly what it meant. And now - only a few seconds later - she is here, at the door, waiting to be acknowledged before stepping in the room. 

  * You foolish, crazy, wonderful, spiteful, addictive woman. 



Zelda pulls her lover in for a kiss, grabbing desperately  on her face. For some ridiculous reason, tonight had felt like a parting, and now Zelda is glad it’s over. 

  * You weren’t sleeping, were you?
  * No. Not really. What about your things at the Academy?
  * I packed it all up and arranged for Nick to… how do you say? Oh, _oui_ , teleport them tomorrow. Quite an amenable young man, I have to say. 
  * Well, he’s especially nice since my niece brought him almost safely back from hell and then succeeded to extract every last drop of Lucifer from his body. Despite everything that happened between those two… 
  * I think we have more interesting things to do than talk about that boy now… 



They quickly start kissing again, vaguely heading towards the bed. Suddenly, the older woman pulls away from the embrace. She wants an answer, and so breathes out a burning question. 

  * Why did you do this tonight?
  * Well, I always was one to appreciate a nice romantic gesture. And it seemed it was the last time I could do something like that. Barge in during the night, I mean. Soon, I won’t have to.
  * Not soon. Now. 



Marie just stares, again. 

  * Does this mean I can say you’re my girlfriend now?



Zelda breaks in a loud laugh. 

  * Is that a yes?



The room feels calm but in this instant there is a tension; in between Marie’s expectations, her emotions all splattering like paint on the walls, and Zelda’s insecurities, her certain fear for words and commitments. They both know they can cross a line now, either way. 

  * It is. 



The line has been crossed and the tension flows out of the room, like cold air, through the cracks in the walls. Marie is happy. Therefore, Zelda is too. And she really means it - to start using words, and making commitments, and talking more about this things. She wants to start giving. 

As this idea resonates in her head she falls to her knees; not roughly at all. She stares at Marie, from the ground - so tall, magnificent. 

She also isn’t wearing much - and, weirdly enough, it’s only now that Zelda notices. She slips her hand across this thin cotton dress, one that, for once, leaves the woman’s dark, strong shoulders exposed. The ginger prefers when there is not too much place left for imagination. This is perfect. 

  * Take it off… 



Marie obeys, silently. Soon, she’s only wearing a colored-pearls necklace, that dives deep in her cleavage. 

  * Turn around. 



She starts by letting her hands feel : those strong calves, the spot of sweet, damp skin behind her knee. She kisses this spot, pressing her lips with such want, such love ; she wants to sink into that skin, live in it, live in  _ her _ , head spinning with her fulfilling presence. Zela wants, she wants and it is not consuming, not like diving into a dark pool of sins ; it’s only light. She wants to thank, to caress, to learn how to be different - tender. 

Kisses on Marie’s back, always soft, are the only sound in the room, apart from the small gasps that escape the woman’s lips at every touch. Zelda turns her lover around again, so she can see her face. She locks her eyes in hers, reaches for her hand and intertwines their fingers. She is searching, on Marie’s features, for hints of joy, or pleasure. Marie keeps staring and gives her no hints at all. Nonetheless, with no need for proof, the witch knows that there is no other devotion, nor worship, in her life, that has ever come close to this. And with this adoration comes no darkness at all. 

She looks fiercely in Marie’s eyes, and grabs her ass. The other woman lets out a faint whine, that could also have been a muffled laugh. Zelda rises up again and pulls Marie closer for a kiss, yet another - she was hungry for the taste of her mouth, missing it already. Zelda is rapidly pushed on the bed, and all remaining clothes are taken off : they slide eager hands upon each other’s bodies, exploring, inches that they both pretty much know by heart already, and open their mouths wide to breathe that air which seems to miss in their lungs. Marie is holding her close, as usual, and Zelda grounds herself with a tight grasp on her lover’s shoulder, to take in the pleasure that washes everything else away, at every contact of sensitive flesh. 

  * I love you. 



“That’s it”, thinks Zelda. “I’ve said it. First”

  * I love you too. 



Marie plays with a lock of her hair, then takes it to her mouth to press it against her lips, like a sacrament : Zelda understands it just as well. Sacred, they are; a love so strong, and yet, so pure. Zelda feels this other body, this kind, grand soul just next to her, and t hinks that is what she is, what she can be now : pure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it!! I really hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. Please take a second to leave a comment if you did :)


End file.
